


Steve's Confession

by WinterTheWriter



Series: One Brick At A Time [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Doctor Who (2005), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentally Ill Logic, loss of temper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterTheWriter/pseuds/WinterTheWriter
Summary: Sam forces Steve to grow up and finally, /finally/ tell Koschei what he's been hiding all this time.Koschei isn't sure he can move past this.





	1. Forgive

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! Angst ahoy! Just like with the last one, there is one pivotal update meant to tie up loose ends I left (purposely) hanging in the first story. This is that update. After this, we start winding down towards the finale already! But there's still some time for that, because this is a multi-chapter (only three, don't worry) update that I'm gonna span out as much as I can without it being ridiculous (as in -- no, I'm NOT going to take three weeks to post three chapters) so I have more time to finish writing this series. Please, please, PLEASE if you like what you've read so far, especially if you've been reading me since the spinoff was a teasing author's note and nothing more, PLEASE drop me a comment. I love and appreciate each and every one of you and I want to know your thoughts!
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS UPDATE: Some brief talk about The Loki Thing, aka a rape mention with no detail, a less-than-loving reaction, a pretty messed up thing to do to someone you love, and finally -- comfort and growth and Sam being awesome. 
> 
> Enjoy, and grab the tissues!

It’s hard, honestly. 

This relationship of theirs — all three of them — has been one of the greatest experiences of Koschei’s very long life, and it makes him /so/ unbelievably happy, but Koschei can’t deny the pit in his gut and the fear in his hearts. The insecurity in his stomach. It’s not Bucky, no. Bucky is amazing, and Koschei loves him more and more every day. He always makes it so clear that Koschei and Steve share the spot for number one in his heart, and he treats them both wonderfully. No, Bucky isn’t the problem.

It’s Steve. 

His Steve. 

His Steve, who left him for Bucky without any hesitation whatsoever. His Steve, who all but admitted to loving Bucky more, wanting Bucky more. His Steve, who looked so happy without Koschei that Koschei could barely believe he’d actually been missed. Koschei doesn’t share the spot for number one with Bucky. Steve’s made it perfectly clear it isn’t even a contest. And, well, that hurts. It hurts and it’s terrifying because who’s to say Steve won’t make that choice again? Who’s to say he won’t force Bucky to make that choice with him, and then Koschei will be alone again, with his two hearts broken three times? 

So, yes, Koschei’s been a bit distant recently, because all of this has been eating him up inside but the last thing he wanted was ruin this perfect bubble the three of them have been floating in, but it looks like he’s gone and done that anyways, right?

Koschei says all of this to Steve outside the conference room where Steve’d grabbed him, his eyes downcast and his hands in his pockets. He’s grimacing, because gods, it is /always/ him that has to do this. 

He chances a look up at Steve and finds him staring back with wide, hurt-filled eyes, mouth open like he wants to say something but can’t find the strength. Koschei crumbles at the sight, grabbing Steve’s arm and squeezing it. “Darling, I—,”

But before he can say anything else, Sam clears his throat from besides them and Koschei looks over to see him looking the angriest he’s ever seen. Steve seems to blanch at the sight, pale with chagrin. 

“/Dude/,” Sam growls at Steve, actually insinuating himself between Steve and Koschei in a manner that looks /protective/, “this is fucked up. This has always been fucked up, but /this/ is a new level. You need to buck up and tell him the truth or I will. As your best friend, this shit’s gotta stop.” 

Well. That…is definitely unexpected. Steve looks mortified as Koschei peeks over Sam’s shoulder to raise his eyebrows at him, trying very, /very/ hard not to let his assumptions run wild. After a few moments of incredibly terse silence, Steve just…nods, swallowing thickly and audibly and rubbing the back of his neck. Sam regards him for a moment more before nodding back, patting Koschei on the shoulder, and stalking off. 

“Uh,” Steve starts quietly, suddenly unable to quite meet Koschei’s eyes, “should we…go to our room?”

“Yes, Steve. Yes, I think we should.”

~

When they get into the bedroom, the first thing Steve does is blurt out, “I love you,” like it’d been a physical feat /not/ saying it. “Just…in case that’d been in question,” he clarifies a moment later, smiling shaky and nervous at Koschei as they situate themselves on the bed across from each other. 

“It…had been, honestly,” Koschei admits, blinking at him. He feels cold. Is it cold?

“I love you, Koschei. I love you /so/ much. That’s…actually what this is about.” 

“Steve, I can’t take many more of these riddles. /Please/. I am not above begging you to just /tell/ me what that was about.” 

Steve sags forward a bit, head down, and when he looks back up he isn’t even trying to smile anymore. “I think you might leave me for this, Koschei, and that terrifies me.” 

“Well. It helps a bit that you’re not aiming for that, I suppose.”

“…You think I love Bucky more than you, but you’re wrong. I love you both equally. Completely and utterly equally.” 

Koschei rears back a little in confusion, brows furrowing as he frowns. Is that the confession? “Steve, you made it /very clear/ that—,”

“I know,” Steve cuts in, lips pursed and face pale. “I was letting you believe otherwise. On purpose.” 

“…What?”

“I-I…listen. When Bucky came back, all I knew is that I couldn’t lose him again. And I was willing to do whatever it took to ensure that.” With a sigh, Steve looks down and wrings his hands in his lap. “…I knew you’d still want to be in my life even if we weren’t together. I didn’t know if Bucky would. So I chose him, and let you believe it was because I loved him more because I thought it’d help both of us move on, and then we got back together and it just felt /cruel/ to tell you the truth, but now…,” he trails off, still not looking up. 

Koschei doesn’t notice his hands are shaking until he balls them into fists, until he’s breathing through gritted teeth, until he — for a fleeting, hysterical moment — understands how a person could hit someone they love. Blue electricity crawls around the seams of his fingers until he gains enough self control to snuff them out, glaring at the bedroom wall and taking deep, /deep/ breaths.

Steve lied. Steve pretended /not/ to love him as much as Bucky to make things easier for him. Steve kept up that facade through /everything/. Through their last time together, their re-budding friendship, their newfound intimacy. Through /Loki./ 

Oh gods, through Loki. 

Koschei barely recognizes the growl that passes his lips instead of his voice, low and ragged. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I /really/ wish you were just going to say you didn’t love me at all.” Steve flinches and doesn’t respond, which is pretty much the best thing he could’ve done. “I…,” Koschei swallows, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, “…am I /really/ such a predictable pushover that you just /knew/ no matter how much you shattered my hearts, I’d still be there for you?” 

“/No!/ No, Koschei, god, that’s not—,” Steve cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair and finally meeting Koschei’s eyes, both pairs wet. “…Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly, you /have/ to know that. I felt desperate and afraid and alone—,”

He freezes at the same time Koschei does, because they both know how hard Steve just fucked up. 

“You felt…alone,” Koschei repeats slowly, voice barely, barely above a whisper. He bores his eyes into Steve’s, refusing to let him look away. “Do you want to know when I felt alone, Steve?”

Steve swallows thickly. 

“I felt alone when the man who told me he’d want me for the rest of his life dumped me for his ex less than a /day/ after finding him. I…felt /alone/ when I had to watch him look happier than he ever did with me, with /someone else/. I felt /alone/ through every thunderstorm I spent holding my own hand, rubbing my /own/ back like a pathetic /child/, while I could /hear you snoring/ two doors down. And I really, /really/ felt alone,” Koschei pauses to take a deep breath, swallow around the lump in his throat as angry, heart wrenched tears finally leak down his cheeks, “when I was so certain of how unloveable, undesirable, and /desperate/ I was that I practically /allowed/ the Master to take over my body, and RAPE ME WITH IT, with a man I DIDN’T love and DIDN’T want but who at least WANTED /ME,/ which was all I felt I had the..the right to— care about—,” and the last bit of his self-control almost crumbles as he presses his hands over his face and hunches over, shaking and horrified and nauseous. 

A hesitant hand presses between his shoulder blades and Koschei, despite everything, can’t find it within his stupid, lovesick soul to flinch away. After a few silent moments, Steve murmurs with a thick voice, “I had convinced myself it was the only way to keep you both in my life. That was all I wanted.” 

Koschei inhales shakily, holds it for several seconds, and releases it slowly. He repeats this until he stops hearing drums. Finally, as calm as he can be right now, “I…genuinely don’t know if I can forgive you for this, Steve.” 

“I know,” Steve whispers back, thin and weak. 

“You brought back every insecurity you told me I didn’t need to have.”

“I know.”

“…Does Bucky know?” Koschei’s almost terrified to ask. 

Steve lets out a slow, trembling sigh. “No. No, he doesn’t.”

“As in, he doesn’t know you love me equally, or as in, he doesn’t know you lied about /not/ loving me equally?”

“…The latter.” 

“/Fuck/, Steve.” 

They lapse back into silence for a while until Koschei gathers what little strength he has at the moment and stands up, the heavy weight of Steve’s hand giving way to the cold spot that replaces it. He keeps his back to Steve as he wipes his eyes and sniffs before turning around to face him. Steve stares miserably back. “I need…time,” Koschei mutters. “To think. About what…what to do next.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, doll,” Steve says hoarsely. 

Something cruel and dark twists in Koschei’s gut and he hisses back, “You’ve lost the right to call me anything but my name for the time being,” and he regrets it as soon as he /watches/ fresh tears spring into Steve’s eyes, but he just cannot muster the apology within himself. He bites his own fist and squeezes his eyes shut as a wave of emotion almost sends him to his knees, knocks his breath out, and when it passes he straightens up and speaks softer. “…When does Bucky come back from the recon mission?” 

Steve takes a few seconds to answer and when he does, it’s meek and quiet and /wrong/ coming from him. “…Two days. He’ll…be gone for two more days.” 

“Right. I’m going to be sleeping in my old room until then.” Koschei sees the desperately hopeful question rise on Steve’s face and he holds up a halting hand before Steve can actually give it voice. “I truly do not know what this means for our future together, Steve. I just—…I cannot think. About that. Right now.” The halting sentences help, somehow, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop them anyways. Steve’s face loses that hope and drops with with the rest of his posture, and his only answer is a slow, silent nod. 

Koschei huffs out a breath and turns on his heel, walking to the door as quickly as his leaden feet will carry him. He’ll come back for clothing when Steve is in training or something. As much clothing as he needs. 

Right before Koschei closes the door behind himself, Steve quietly whispers out, “I love you.” 

And for the first time since they’ve met, Koschei pulls the door shut and doesn’t say it back.


	2. Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koschei comes back with his terms. Bucky finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As soon as I posted the last chapter I binge-wrote what I needed to write sooo now there's no need to wait. Here's three chapters in one night, y'all!
> 
> NOTE: the warnings for the last chapter pertain to all three, not just that one.
> 
> Enjoy!

Koschei manages to keep himself away for exactly 36 hours, during which time he gives Steve as much of a cold shoulder as he can, and tries not to let the kicked puppy-dog expression he gets back sink in too much. But of course it does, because as hard as he tries, Koschei just can’t /not/ love Steve Rogers. He knows that like he knows his native tongue. 

But the fog of rage clears during the brief recess, and Koschei can, somewhat, think objectively about the situation. He thinks in facts, forces himself to temporarily ignore his personal feelings on the matter, and it…helps.

Steve loves him.

Steve was terrified, and in shock, and ecstatic about the return of his childhood best friend and first love, whose frozen body he thought he’d had to abandon in the wilderness. 

Steve is…impulsive, and reckless, and as brilliant of a strategist as he is on the field, he’s always been downright shit at long-term emotional planning. 

Koschei can reluctantly understand why Steve did what he did, even though it was monumentally selfish and hurtful, because Steve didn’t /know/ the type of man Bucky is now, and /did/ know that they will both, somewhat, always be products of their time, and even Koschei is still surprised at how easy this “modern” dynamic has been for them. 

It’s not that he thought Koschei was a pushover to manipulate and hurt as he pleased; it’s that he /trusted/ Koschei enough to take him at his word when he said he’d always be there for him, and he just…greatly, severely misjudged how to treat that trust. 

Again, Koschei tells all of this to Steve from across the room, but this time they’re already alone. Koschei had rapped four times on the door early in the morning, because everything is still soft and warm when the world’s still waking up, and now Steve’s sitting on the bed while Koschei lingers near the door. It’s almost the exact same position they were in 36 hours ago. 

“I am…not breaking up with you,” Koschei finally says, and relief audibly whooshes the air out of Steve’s chest as the tension drops from his body, “/if/,” he continues, and Steve tenses up again, “if. You agree to my terms.”

“Anything. /Anything/, do—Koschei.” Steve looks wrecked and exhausted and desperate and Koschei almost kisses him. 

“First,” he starts, holding up a finger, “you are going back to therapy. And you are sticking with it until your doctor tells /me or Bucky/, not just you, that you do not need it anymore. Second,” a second finger joins the first, “you /will/ be telling Bucky every last detail about this, and because I cannot trust you right now, you will do this with me there.” Steve sighs but it’s resigned, and the grimace on his face shows he’d been expecting that. “And finally — this should be the easiest thing you do — we are going to go on more dates, just the two of us. I love Bucky, and I love being with him, but you and I were apart long enough that we need to relearn each other properly. I need to learn to trust you again, and we need alone time for that to happen.”

There’s barely a pause before Steve says, “Done,” and it’s sudden enough that Koschei raises an eyebrow at him. “I said anything and I meant it. It’s…those first two things are gonna really suck, and I’m terrified, but you’re worth anything, Koschei. You /have/ to believe me when I say I thought what I was doing was going to hurt you less than anything else I could’ve done.”

“I know,” Koschei sighs with his own resignation, looking down for a moment and crossing his arms. “The only reason why we aren’t breaking up is that I /know/ you, Steve, and as shitty as what you did was, I do truly know you only wanted to do the right thing. You just…really missed the mark on what the right thing was. And so I forgive you. I’m not /happy/ with you, and things are /not/ going to be back to normal for the foreseeable future, but. I forgive you, and I love you, and we’ll get through this because I don’t know how to do anything else.” 

“Okay. Okay, thank you, Koschei. I love you. I know I don’t — I haven’t earned this chance, but I’m /so/ grateful for it.”

“We both acted out of insecurity and fear, Steve. You with your lying, and…how I blew up at you the other day was not exactly the most mature of reactions, especially bringing up our break-up. But what happened happened, and we’re going to be grown-ups about it.”

“…Can I hug you?”

“Yes. But don’t kiss me. Not yet.” 

Koschei’s swept up in Steve’s arms so quickly he didn’t even see Steve move before he’s being crushed into his chest. They hug fiercely and tightly, both dutifully ignoring the other’s ragged breaths, and even despite everything Koschei feels just as at home as he always does in these moments. 

They’ll be okay. 

~

When Bucky comes home, Koschei barely lets him out of his tac gear before he sits him on the edge of the bed, takes his own seat on the padded windowsill behind the side of it, and proclaims to a shocked Bucky and a suddenly pale Steve that there’s something Steve needs to discuss. Bucky looks at Steve in what Koschei’s sure is an expectant expression, and Steve inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and launches into a similar, clumsy confession much like the original. 

It, admittedly, warms Koschei’s hearts at first at how rip-shit furious Bucky is, even though he hates seeing the men he love in such a state with each other. Bucky stands up from the bed as soon as Steve’s done talking and /stalks/ closer to him, metal finger pointing. “How /dare/ you, Steve Rogers, how fuckin’ /dare/ you do this to /our Koschei/! How DARE you. He is the best thing that has ever happened to us and the fact that you /willingly/ let him believe otherwise for a single fuckin’ /second/ — god, through LOKI — is goddamn /reprehensible./ Has he not been through enough?” Bucky hisses out and although Koschei can’t see /his/ face, he /does/ see Steve’s lower lip start to quiver, sees the way he backs towards the wall like a wounded animal and swallows to keep his emotions under control. “Has he not /been abused enough/?” 

And /that/ makes Steve choke on a sob and his knees visibly buckle until he’s leaning against the wall for support, trembling and squeezing his eyes shut, and okay, that’s too far. Koschei slowly makes his way over to them and steps in front of Steve, his back to him, as he cups Bucky’s cheeks in his hands. Instantly, the rage simmers down in Bucky’s eyes and he seems to melt into the touch, now just looking heartbroken and raw on Koschei’s behalf. “Bucky, that’s enough,” he says softly, thumbs stroking Bucky’s skin. 

“But he—,”

“—was already given quite the third degree from me, I promise, and also /did not abuse me/.” Koschei glances back at Steve as he says the last part, making sure his point gets across. He gets a weak nod for his efforts so he turns back to Bucky. “He fucked up—,”

“A /lot/.”

“—Yes, a lot, but it was just a fuck up. I did nothing /but/ overthink this for pretty much 36 hours straight, and although I’m still furious and hurt, I /do/ forgive him, because I know the pain he’s caused was unintentional, and I also know how dreadful he feels about it.” 

“Intentional or not, he still caused it,” Bucky grumbles, but his gaze flicks worriedly to Steve and Koschei knows he’s getting through. Both of Bucky’s hands cover both of Koschei’s as he presses a kiss to one of his palms, and Koschei smiles softly at him.

“Which is why he’s not off the hook,” Koschei points out quietly. “He’s agreed to go back to therapy, he agreed to tell you everything, and he knows we have a long road ahead of us to rebuild the trust he broke.” 

Bucky sighs, eyes closing for a moment, before he nods and gently pulls Koschei’s hands away to step around him and carefully pry Steve from the wall, arms around his waist. Instantly, Steve’s arms cling around him as he buries his face into Bucky’s neck, a heavy shudder wracking through him. Koschei will never stop marveling at how opposite Steve’s dynamic is with him and Bucky, even now. “I shouldn’t have said you abused him, doll-face,” Bucky murmurs to him, pressing a slow kiss to his temple. “Got a bit too heated, and I’m sorry. Shoulda paid attention to how you’ve obviously already been through the ringer about this.” 

Koschei interrupts one last time to press a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth, and after a moment’s hesitation, a brief one to Steve’s cheek (Steve jolts a little at the contact and Koschei almost forgets /he’s/ the one who was hurt here), and quietly tells them both he’s going to step out so they can have their privacy. He’s seen all he needed to see, and heard what he needed to hear. Bucky gives him a soft, grateful smile and nods, and Koschei slips from the room and shuts the door softly behind him.


	3. Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Koschei have a little R&R.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Just a nice little conclusion to this angst fest. 
> 
> Enjoy!

In the kitchen, Koschei finds Sam munching on some post-mission cereal, still half in uniform with the Falcon wings haphazardly on the floor near his feet. Sam’s eyebrows shoot up when he sees Koschei, and he wordlessly motions to the chair across from him as he swallows his spoonful. Koschei plops down gratefully, flashing him a tired smile.

“So…,” Sam prods, pushing his bowl to the side.

With a sigh, Koschei scrubs a tired hand over his face and shrugs. “I know the truth. I’m staying with him, but I had conditions. One of those conditions was him telling Bucky, which is what’s happening now.” 

Sam nods his understanding and leans back in his seat. “And how are we feelin’ about that, Koschei?” he asks in his patented counsellor voice. It makes Koschei smile a little. 

“I’m…angry, and hurt, but I understand why he did what he did, and he’s going to go to therapy.” 

“Alone?”

“…Well, yes.”

With a brief grimace, Sam adjusts his weight and his tone turns coaxing and even. “Koschei, all /three/ of you should be in therapy. Together, and individually. You’ve /all/ had craploads of trauma that /none/ of you really have great coping methods for — you know I’m right, man, stop glaring — and you all deserve to get some peace from that. If you don’t, this ain’t gonna be the last time one of you hurts another without meaning to, and the next time could be worse.” 

“What do you mean?” Koschei asks tersely, fighting the childish indignation he feels. 

Sam’s eyes soften like he knows /exactly/ what Koschei is fighting, and he probably does. “I mean therapy isn’t about relinquishing self-control or not being able to solve your own problems, it’s about getting the tools and help you need to get you to a point where you /can/ solve your own problems. It’s about helping you make peace with your past, and work through your demons, and strengthen your relationships. And it’s something everyone needs, Koschei. Steve is not the only one, and it’s unhealthy of you to pretend he is.” 

Koschei’s quiet for a bit, staring at the tabletop, before pointing out, “You knew what Steve was hiding all this time and never told me.”

“Nice deflection. It’s not my relationship or my place to stir shit up in it, unless it starts to get to a really unhealthy place. When it did, if you’ll recall, I did actually step in,” Sam answers easily, a faint smile on his face, “and you still need therapy.”

Koschei glares up at him and Sam stares back, eyebrows raised challengingly. Koschei tries to argue, “I’m too old for—,”

“No.”

“…It’s too late to—,”

“No.”

“…My alien brain chemistry is—,”

“Oh come the fuck on.”

Koschei groans and breaks eye contact in favor of pressing his head to the table and speaking into it. “Fuck you, Sam. /Fuck/ you.”

“Want me to get you a reference or two?”

“Go fuck yourself. Yes, please.” 

Sam laughs a little and takes his bowl to the sink before picking up his wings and patting Koschei on the shoulder. “For what it’s worth? I’m glad this didn’t break you guys up. Unhealthy doesn’t always mean unhappy, and I’ve never seen /any/ of you as happy as you are together.”

Koschei straightens up to smile at Sam as best he can. “Thank you, Sam. Really. You’re a wonderful friend, to all of us.”

“And don’t you forget it. Alien brain chemistry headass—,”

~

When Koschei gets Bucky’s text that he can return to the bedroom, he practically races there. He finds them cuddling in bed, changed into their pajamas, and Steve gives him a hesitant, hopeful smile and opens his arms. Koschei is helpless to do anything but kick off his shoes and climb right into that embrace, face pressed into Steve’s chest and sigh as he feels Bucky curl around him from behind. He mentions therapy casually, to Bucky, voice still muffled, and to his surprise Bucky agrees after only a little bit of arguing. The three of them decide to follow Sam’s advice to the letter — sessions for all of them, and for each of them — because, well, he’s right. 

They have a very long road ahead of them, and it won’t be easy. Twice the love also means twice the hardship, but being surrounded by his men, being hugged and held and loved — /equally/ — so obviously by them, makes it so painfully, crystal clear that it’ll be worth every second.


End file.
